Brothers
by Bellantara
Summary: A look at the relationship between Keith and Shiro, before they were Paladins.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to the brilliant Icewyche for beta reading and suggestions. I don't own them and make no profit from them. _Aniki_ means big brother; _otouto_ means little brother, both in Japanese. Enjoy!

"I wish you didn't have to go, _aniki_." Shiro looked up from his packing at the quiet voice, giving one of his rare smiles to his indigo-eyed little brother blinking at him sleepily from the door.

"It's only six months, Keith," he answered gently, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting the space beside him. Keith shuffled over and joined him, scowling at the floor. "I'll be back before you even miss me. This Kerberos mission is a once in a lifetime chance; we may very well find the first signs of extraterrestrial life! I can't pass that up."

"I know." He had to smile at the petulance in Keith's voice. "I just wish I could go WITH you! I'm as good a pilot as you are; all the instructors say so." Indigo eyes met steel blue, and Shiro swallowed hard at the determination and vulnerability there. "And. . . I just. . . I—I'm afraid you won't come back, Shiro!"

"You can't think like that." Shiro threaded his fingers through the younger boy's hair, drawing Keith against his shoulder. "It's not the same as your parents; I'm good at what I do, the ship's the best the Garrison has. It'll be _fine,_ little brother; I promise. When I come back, I want to hear that you've blown all my records away; that no one even knows who Takashi Shirogane _is_ anymore. Can you do that for me?" He ruffled the wild bangs, laughing at Keith's protests.

"I can," Keith finally promised, "And I will. You have my word, _aniki._ I'll make you proud of me."

Shiro chuckled softly. "I already am, _otouto._ Never forget that, _hai?_ No matter what happens. Now. . ." he nudged the younger boy, "Suppose you can help me find the spare batteries for my datapad?"

Keith rolled his eyes. "They're in your top right desk drawer. Like they always are. Maybe I SHOULD go with you; you need a keeper."

"Oh, is that a fact?" was all the warning Keith got before Shiro tackled him, tickling him mercilessly. All-out war soon ensued, ending with the boys sprawled across Shiro's bed in an exhausted heap. Keith burrowed into Shiro's side, seeking rare comfort the way he did when Shiro first pulled him in from the streets. Shiro looked at him for a minute, one of his rare smiles crossing his face, then reached for his datapad, holding it up and snapping a picture.

The next day, Keith turned out in full dress with the rest of his class before dawn to watch Shiro and the Holts board their ship and take off. When he finally returned to his room to change, he found an envelope on his desk, addressed in Shiro's precise script. Shakily he opened it, and sat down to take out the contents. First was a photo of the two of them, clearly taken the night before. Keith traced Shiro's face with careful fingers, then set the picture aside to read the note that was with it.

 _Hey little brother,_ it began, and Keith smiled, hearing Shiro's calm easy voice in the words. _Gods, it's weird writing you a letter, when you're six feet away snoring on my bed. But I need to. I'm out of time, and just haven't been able to say what I need to say to your face. Keith . . . little brother. So angry, so talented. You have so much potential; to be even better than I am. Heh, listen to me, all sappy. Like I'm not going to be there to watch you tear the Academy up. Anyway. . . I want you to know that I love you, I have since the day I found you trying to steal my wallet. I swear I'm coming back; I'm going to be there when you become the legend I know you will. I have to go; sneaking out to say goodbye to Romelle and give her this to leave for you. Be awesome for me. Your_ aniki, _Takashi Shirogane._


	2. Chapter 2

Keith looked up from locking his room door to find one of the senior instructors waiting for him. "With me, Kogane," the man snapped. "Commandant's office." Without another word the man strode off, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Keith to catch up.

Five minutes later, Keith stood at rigid attention in the Commandant's office, waiting for the man to finish the phone conversation he was having. Finally it concluded and the Commandant looked up at him. "At ease, Cadet Kogane," he said quietly, toying with a file on his desk. "I didn't want to tell you this until the rest of the corps found out at assembly tomorrow. But . . . you're listed on Lieutenant Shirogane's paperwork as next of kin, so. . ." he took a breath and finally met Keith's gaze. "All contact with the Kerberos mission was lost as of 1700 hours last night. They've now missed two mandatory check-ins. I'm afraid that Commander Holt, Mission Specialist Holt, and Lieutenant Shirogane are missing and presumed dead. You have the Garrison's condolences, Cadet."

Keith staggered, collapsing into a chair in defiance of all military protocol. The room spun around him as he tried to speak, failing several times before he managed to squeak, ". . . _How_?"

The Commandant cleared his throat. "Understand that this is classified information, Kogane. We're still analyzing the telemetry, both from the lander and the orbiter. However, preliminary evidence suggests that pilot error is most likely to blame."

" _WHAT?!"_ Keith shot to his feet, furious. "No way, that's BULLSHIT . . . uh, sir," he finished lamely, blushing as he remembered where he was and who he was talking to.

The Commandant merely raised an eyebrow. "There is no other explanation, thus far. All the telemetry shows optimal operation from the equipment. Lt. Shirogane undoubtedly made a miscalculation in his piloting." He picked up some papers, clearly ending the interview. "Memorial service will be in three days; mandatory attendance, dress uniform. Dismissed."

"Sir," Keith ground out, saluting and fleeing before his mouth could get him in any more trouble. He wasn't paying any attention to where he was going, and so was surprised to find himself in front of Shiro's room. Which, of course, wasn't Shiro's anymore; two weeks after he left, it had been assigned to a new cadet. All of Shiro's things were in storage. Sighing, he turned and walked away.

Once safely locked in his room, Keith sprawled across his bed and picked up the picture Shiro had snapped their last night together. " _Aniki_ ," he whispered, closing his eyes against the tears that burned them. "I don't care what they say; I don't believe you screwed up. I won't give up, _aniki._ I'll find you, I swear it." He didn't want to admit Shiro was gone, but his training forced him to face facts. Even if Shiro HAD survived whatever happened, the simple fact was that there was no way to rescue him, or his crew. "But it wasn't his fault, it couldn't have been," Keith whispered to himself. The beginnings of an idea sparked in his mind and he dove for his computer, hoping that Shiro's logins weren't disabled and the tech geeks were too busy to notice them being used on Earth. For what felt like an eternity, he was unable to breathe, until the computer connected to Garrison's classified system and he located the Kerberos mission subsystem. First he downloaded the telemetry, saving it offsite, then he got to work analyzing it, looking for the flaw he KNEW had to be there. Shiro wouldn't make an error that cost lives.

Two hours into his work, a knock came on his door, followed by the sound of the door opening and footsteps entering. That could only mean one thing, and Keith turned to see a senior instructor behind him. "Kogane," the man ground out. "Accessing classified data without authorization. Did you really think Shirogane's login wouldn't be flagged? Your ass is in a sling now, boy. You're out of Garrison, effective as soon as the memorial is over, and lucky you aren't going to Leavenworth. Until then, you're confined to quarters."

Keith spun back to his computer, shutting it down and starting to pack it up. "Let me save you some time," he said in a low voice as he threw his things together. "I'm not going to the memorial service. I'll be damned if I'm going to listen to old men who really couldn't give a fuck rattle on and on about the 'senseless tragedy' and 'noble sacrifice', blaming my brother when we haven't got a damned _clue_ what happened. Fucking spare me, OK?" He didn't own much, and by the time he ran out of words, he had everything thrown in his bag. With a final eye roll, he pushed past the gaping instructor, walking out of Garrison without a single look back.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been one year, three months, twelve days, and fourteen hours since I last saw my _aniki_ , waving goodbye as he boarded his ship to Kerberos. Nine months, seven days, and six hours since my world stuttered to a crashing halt. I've been out here in the desert all that time. Out where people can't promise they'll come back but never do. Where I don't have to hear that Shiro screwed up, that he's a disgrace to the Garrison. When I know—I _know—_ he did everything right. A couple of my Academy—buddies, I guess; I really didn't have friends—tried to keep in touch with me; I never answered them. Romelle came out here three times before she shipped out, trying to talk to me; I ignored her too.

My damned training, every bit of logic and reason I've ever had, tells me Shiro's dead. Even if he survived whatever happened at first, there's no way he could've lived this long out in space. I know all of this. I know every stupid detail of how much oxygen his ship had, his space suit had. My nightmares show me in gleeful detail how _aniki_ would have slowly died as he ran out of oxygen, fighting to breathe. I know way too damned much to believe he's alive. Thing is, that's exactly what I do. Believe he's alive. I have to. Because the universe can't possibly be screwed up enough to take him _and_ my parents.

I couldn't tell you the last time I slept the whole night. I've had nightmares for as long as I can remember, either of my parents dying or some of the crap I saw on the streets when I was a kid. I used to go to Shiro with them; he'd tuck me into his bed and sleep next to me. And I could sleep then; he'd make the nightmares go away somehow. But now. . . now he's gone. And worse yet, he's _part_ of my nightmares now. So I don't sleep more than 10-12 hours a week. I just can't.

So I try to stay busy. I probably know the Kerberos telemetry better than anyone in Garrison now. And I explore the desert around the cabin. To the north, about a fifteen minute ride away, are some ancient ruins; I nearly broke my neck falling into them, and try to stay away now. South is the Academy; I never go that way for obvious reasons. East is some kind of scientific station; I haven't figured out what they're doing, and stay out of their way. But west . . . is weird. Some sort of energy that always knocks my com and nav systems offline, and the cave with its odd markings, where the energy feels stronger. I've mapped out the cave, the extent of the energy, but . . . there's no reason for it. No explanation I can find anywhere.

Last night was one of the bad ones, with Shiro playing a starring role. But this time was different; instead of seeing him suffocate and die on Kerberos, he was alive, beaten and begging for my help. Just as I reached for him, I woke up in a cold sweat. Still trying to shake it off, I wandered outside, looking up at the stars like I always do . . . which is when I saw the meteor crash. Best I could tell, it landed near the science station; people could be hurt, there could be loose gear to appropriate. . . . off I went on the bike.

The station was lit up like pictures I've seen of old New York's Times Square; it was pretty obvious that it wasn't hit. It was crawling with people, more than I've ever seen, all in Garrison uniforms, and I got curious. The dynamite meant for the boulder threatening the cabin made a much better distraction, pulling enough people away from the station to let me slip in unnoticed.

I heard the voice first; hoarse, exhausted, babbling something about aliens coming, and Voltron—whatever that meant. A quieter murmur, and the voice changed, getting more frantic as it begged not to be restrained. And I couldn't take that begging.

The Garrison scientists weren't expecting any trouble; I had them out cold almost before they knew I was there. Then I turned my attention to their victim . . . and very nearly hit the floor myself. " _Shiro?"_ I gasped, even though he had passed out and couldn't answer. He looked so much older, his hair gone to grey and white, and _kami_ help me, his right arm was gone, replaced by something robotic, but. . . . no question, it was my _aniki._

I managed to get him off the table, out of the station and away from the Garrison pursuit, despite the idiot that thinks I'm some rival of his and his tagalongs, safely back to the cabin. I had his things stored, so he could get cleaned up; now he's standing beside me as we watch the sunrise. There's so much to talk about—where's he been, what happened to his crew, what was he talking about earlier—plus we have to deal with the tagalongs on my couch. But right now, all of that can wait. I have my _aniki_ returned to me from the dead, and there is nothing in this world we cannot face and defeat together.


End file.
